Empathetic
by Illusionize
Summary: Emotions are going to take some getting used to. [post-KH3D] [spoilers]


twipen on tumblr said she wanted to read post-KH3D emotional overload fic. I was an idiot and agreed to write it. It's probably the most physically painful thing I've ever written, not just because of all the feels but also because IENZO BB I LOVE YOU OMG I'M SO SORRY

If you don't want to read somebody having a panic attack then don't read this. I was writing from experience. It wasn't fun. This has also been crossposted on tumblr and AO3.

* * *

Ienzo felt his left eyebrow twitch. It was almost involuntary; in fact, it was actually rather annoying, but he couldn't stop it.

"You know, I thought you were supposed to be the creepy kid," Lea was saying. "I don't think I ever heard you say a single word until after we were all Nobodies, and even then you hardly talked. Now it's all you ever do!"

Aeleus looked to Ienzo, his expression clearly asking if Ienzo wanted him to get rid of Lea. He would do it, too, Ienzo knew, but he shook his head minutely. Aeleus shrugged; the offer was clearly still on the table.

"I wouldn't say that talking is _all_ I've done since we were recompleted," Ienzo began, but Lea cut him off.

"Talk, talk, talk – man, you are such a chatty Cathy! When the hell did that happen?" Lea laughed. "At least some things never change. You're still a pipsqueak!" He used Ienzo's head as an armrest just to prove his point.

Ienzo suppressed a growl and instead ducked his head and took three steps to the left, taking him out of Lea's stupidly long reach. It wasn't _his_ fault Lea resembled a telephone pole while he himself had ended up with more conservative genes. That was just how genetics _worked_.

Lea reached toward him again, and Ienzo neatly sidestepped the redhead's arm. He made eye contact with Aeleus and jerked his head toward the study's door. Aeleus nodded. He uncrossed his arms and eased up away from the bookshelf he had been leaning on. Ienzo didn't hear what he said to Lea, or if he even said anything at all; he was too busy bracing himself against the desk, trying to remember how to _not_ be annoyed. He barely remembered being annoyed from before, though he recalled spending enough of his childhood feeling it to know that it was what he was feeling now.

He took a few deep breaths. That was supposed to help, right? Having Lea not around definitely helped. He began to mentally recite the periodic table until his heart stopped beating quite so fast.

"Are you okay?"

Ienzo startled. He hadn't heard Aeleus come back into the study. "Yes," he said. "I'm fine."

"Lea won't be back for a while," Aeleus said. "I sent him off with the grocery list."

"That'll take him all day," said Ienzo.

"That was the idea. Don't worry; I made sure he'll get the right tea this time."

"Thank you." Ienzo took a few carefully measured breaths. "I really am fine. You don't need to… to _babysit_ me."

Aeleus gave him a Look, which Ienzo calmly returned. "Okay," he said finally. "You know where I'll be." Then he left.

Ienzo let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. There was another feeling in his chest – anxiety? Yes, that made sense; he'd been anxious that Aeleus would catch him in his lie. Although, it wasn't _really_ a lie. He was _almost_ fine; he just needed a few more moments to –

He focused on his breathing again, this time counting as he did so. It helped. He was going to be fine. He sat back down at the desk he had working at before Lea had come into be a nuisance. He recalled that Lea had always been getting thrown out of the castle after trying to sneak in – literally, when it was Dilan who caught him. It seemed that some things really _didn't_ change.

He closed his eyes to mentally re-centre himself. He was absolutely fine. He opened his eyes, and was greeted with the sight of the enormous portrait of Xehanort on the opposite wall.

Perhaps he wasn't quite so fine after all.

Why hadn't they gotten _rid_ of that yet? None of them had any love left for the man – had never had any love for him at _all_, except that Ansem had trusted him for some godforsaken reason and Ansem the Wise couldn't _possibly_ be wrong, not ever – especially not after what he had done – what he had made them do –

What they had done because of him. What he had talked them into doing.

Ienzo caught sight of his reflection in the portrait's glass. His first thought was that he no longer looked like the naïve fool he had been. He was older now; he had learned. Even without his heart, without his emotions, he had learned.

And then he saw something that made his blood run cold. As he gazed at his reflection, it seemed to fade in to the portrait. It was the same. The colours, the shapes, they were smaller, but they were the _same_.

He stood up abruptly, tearing his gaze down and away from the portrait, staring instead at his fingernails digging into the desk. The desk was quite solid, so he was sure it would hurt later, but for now he couldn't feel it at all. His cheeks burned hot with emotion – this one didn't take any thinking to identify; he recognised it right away. It was anger.

"_Bastard_," he hissed, his vision blurring.

Ienzo had figured out, eventually, that Xehanort – later Xemnas – was not to be trusted. But before that… He hadn't _really_ been a naïve fool at all. He had been a _child_. Xehanort had been presented as trustworthy; what else was he supposed to have done?

And this was how it ended.

He stormed out of the room, his breathing erratic. He could think of half a dozen ways to get it back under control, but he couldn't focus enough to try any of them. All he knew was that he couldn't be in that room any more, couldn't tolerate _that face_ gazing down at him, mocking him –

He tore off his ascot as he briskly walked through the halls – he wasn't running, it would be unbecoming of his station to _run_ – then pulled off his lab coat, balled it up, and tossed it aside as he went. He knew, he _knew_, that he should treat his clothing with more respect – but then, it wasn't _his_ clothing, was it? He had worn these things when he was younger because _Xehanort_ had worth these things when he was younger, and he had – _damn_ that man – _looked up_ to him –

Ienzo screamed, and with both his arms swept entire stacks of books off of the table in front of him. He didn't remember entering the library at all, but he was there now and there were a lot of tables with a lot of books.

It was a very good thing that Ansem the Wise was already trapped within the realm of darkness, because Ienzo felt that if he weren't, he would put his old mentor there _himself_, simply for the crime of taking in Xehanort, of _trusting_ Xehanort –

Of listening to Ienzo. Of sitting there, attention rapt, listening as eleven-year-old Ienzo had laid out his carefully-rendered plans for the lab to study those creatures of darkness, as he had painstakingly explained each possible risk and his plans to neutralise or circumvent them, as he had spoken as calmly as he could manage while keeping his nerves at bay because being visibly nervous might cause Ansem to reject his proposal, even though he was quite nervous indeed because _Xehanort had entrusted him with this task_ –

Ienzo's shoulder collided painfully with a bookcase; he went down with it, knocking over at least three others in the process. He tried to get to his feet, but his legs refused to hold his weight. He fell back onto the pile of books he'd created, trying to catch his breath – but nothing he tried was _working_. He tried harder, tried to focus, but he couldn't –

"Ienzo!"

A great blurry shape barrelled into the library; he knew, from its voice and from the copper blob near its top, that it was Aeleus, and _oh_, wasn't _that_ just perfect, just _exactly_ the thing he needed.

His breaths quickened, and he couldn't slow them down. He knew that he needed to; he knew that he was beginning to hyperventilate and that he could very well pass out if he couldn't stop, but he _couldn't stop_.

He felt Aeleus kneel down next to him, wrap an arm around his shoulders. He felt Aeleus rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, heard Aeleus murmuring to him, things he couldn't understand even though the _intent_ was clear, that Aeleus was trying everything he could think of to simply calm Ienzo down.

For a moment it even seemed to be working. Ienzo thought he almost had his breathing under control. He reached up a hand to stubbornly swipe at his eyes and clear his vision, even though he was _most definitely not_ crying. Aeleus's hand was at the nape of Ienzo's neck, thumb smoothing down over the hair there, and Ienzo thought that it felt _so familiar_ –

And then he realised, of course it did, because Aeleus was _always looking after him_. Even had never been the most attentive of minders, especially when he had his mind stuck in some new experiment or another, and Ansem, in all his wisdom, was realistically incapable of ensuring that _every_ place that Ienzo could get into was actually safe. Neither Braig nor Dilan had been particularly welcoming toward Ienzo, young as he was, and so it had often fell to Aeleus to make sure that he was safe and unharmed. Even during the experiments, Aeleus had tried to protect him. Even as they fell to darkness, Aeleus had tried to protect him. Even as Nobodies, without hearts, without emotions, _Aeleus had tried to protect him_ –

Ienzo was breathing in rapid, gasping hiccoughs again, nearly choking as he tried to get air, tried to speak, tried to do _anything_ –

"Ienzo, stop," said Aeleus. "_Please_." His voice was hoarse, broken.

Ienzo tried to hold his breath, managed for a few seconds, let it go, and began to cough instead. Somehow he stopped before _that_ became uncontrollable as well. "I'm… _trying_…" he forced out. That was good. Even two words was better than no words.

Aeleus wrapped both his arms around Ienzo and pulled him in, holding on tightly. Ienzo stilled immediately despite still breathing rapidly – this was –

Aeleus was _hugging_ him.

Ienzo had not been hugged in a very long time. Not since his parents had died. Ansem the Wise had not been a physically affectionate man. Holding Ienzo's hand as they walked through the castle eating ice cream, yes, but hugging? No. Not ever.

He was _not_ crying. There were _not_ tears streaming down his face, which he was _not_ burying in the crook of Aeleus's neck.

Hours, days, minutes later, Ienzo could finally breathe normally again, and Aeleus finally released his death grip on him.

"…What brought this on?" Aeleus asked quietly, after an eternity.

"That… _portrait_, in the study," Ienzo replied, after an equally long time. He could not bring himself to say _his_ name. "I just… How do you _feel_ so many things at once, and not… and not go mad?"

"Oh, _Ienzo_," Aeleus said. His face was pale and his eyes were red, and Ienzo thought he looked like he might start crying. "That you need to ask that… We failed you. We all did." He shook his head. "You'll… You'll learn. I promise you that."

Ienzo slowly got to his feet. This time, he could actually stay standing.

"You've done a number in here," said Aeleus.

"I didn't even know I was doing it," replied Ienzo. He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Lea simply has another task awaiting him when he returns."

Aeleus chuckled weakly. "Yes," he said. "I suppose he does."


End file.
